Rosa Amiflora
by Lunathedemigod
Summary: PREQUEL TO PERCY JACKSON! Rosa is a demigod, who goes through a lot to reach camp half blood. She is a carless girl, but as she meets Juniper and Annabeth and joins camp half blood, they are like a cure for her. She learns the ways of being a daughter of Demeter and the legendary Percy Jackson arrives at half blood hill at the end of the story.
1. Chapter 1

**Heya! I'm Luna and i love the percy jackson series! I am starting to write this fan fiction and was wondering if you guys could read and tell me whether it was good, and if i should continue! Thanks! It's about a demigod getting to camp half blood, and meeting percy at the end of the book. It's a prequel to the percy jackson series. Enjoy!**

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Chapter I

My mother is the one who gave me this diary. I don't really like the ruby red leather cover, but the elaborate flowery golden pattern is quite beautiful. That is the reason I finally decided to write my story, once I'd gotten the courage to. Yet, I don't know where to start. To let you know, I'm sitting alone in the mess hall at camp; with the pen Annabeth gave me in my hand, and a look of worry on my face. Writing isn't really my thing; Annabeth's cabin would be fit to do these things, but I'm giving it a try. I promised to my mother I would. So here we go.

Wait! One last thing, I wasn't expecting any of this to happen – I'd rather pretend this is a fictional story. It'd make it easier for both you and I.

Imagine row-to-row houses, wall-to-wall carpeting and a young girl who has nothing else to do on her weekends. Now, imagine a horrible life, no friends, no mom at home and a dad who's working 24/7. Well, he didn't _exactly_ work _all_ the time…but it seemed that way anyway. I had thought I was living quite a miserable life at the time, but sometimes I wish I could trade that life for the life-risking one I have now. But that's the old me. No longer do I want to deliberately end my days. No longer do I think that way.

My father wasn't home until a few hours. I decided that was enough time to make an account on this social network so I could talk to my only friend. _If_ you count Amy Watterson as a friend. As soon as I joined, I was trying to decipher some words on my computer screen, but my dyslexia didn't help. After a few minutes I was searching people up. I posted several comments, and things along those lines when I received my first notification. Sadly, it came from the school bully – Liv Smith. The sound of her name disgusts me. She replied to my comment saying, "Nobody likes you Rosa. You should delete your account; no one would ever follow you anyway. I mean, look at you! You're pathetic." My cheeks turned scarlet, but no worries, I wasn't blushing, I was angry. I posted another comment in reply to hers. "Ha. Well you don't have any real friends anyway." I was proud with my comeback. But soon I wasn't so much. "Rosa, nor do you." Her comment got 15 likes almost immediately. I got up too fast and broke the chair I was sitting on. That chair had been through a lot, so it was already slightly falling apart.

Then the bad plan came to mind. The bad plan is the nickname I give to the idea I got a random day when I was 9. It consists of 3 steps: get a kitchen knife, slit your wrists and wait to bleed yourself to death. Yeah, what a bad plan, I think. But I felt so angry after what Liv said, and how she was right: I had no friends. Truth hurts. Though I couldn't stop my legs, walking down the stairs to the kitchen. I couldn't stop myself from looking in the drawer and taking the biggest and pointiest knife I could take. It was like my mind and muscles wanted different things. My mind was saying that this was ridiculous, that I would never get the guts to _actually_ cut myself. Nevertheless, my hands gripped the handle of the knife, my fingers fumbling to find a better position, before wielding it over my wrists. Then I stood in this awkward position, waiting for my hand to make the move, understanding the consequences of my act. I decided to make a list of who really cared about me in this world. Not the silly fake friends who would shed fake tears at my funeral, if they even went. My dad…somewhat cared. He loved my mother so much. Yet she disappeared a few days after my birth. Something about not being able to live life in this form. I never understood how it is imaginable to abandon your baby with the father, empty handed. Dad told me she was his world, and when she left, everything fell apart. I feel like I shouldn't deserve to live, I'm just a pain in the neck, as my dad would say. With all these thoughts in mind, I forget I'm trying to kill myself! I fail at following three simple steps. Only step one completed in the end of the day. Somehow I put in mind the thought of putting down the knife back in it's place, going upstairs and trying to fix the chair and delete my account on this social network. I was pretty sure I'd done it, very sure. Until I suddenly drop the knife over my wrist, and it cuts me without me meaning to. I forgot to mention I was terrified of blood. I begin to panic.

I watch the blood spilling out of my wrist, gashing from the open wound. The thing is, I end up cutting myself when I don't want to. It's almost ironic, and I open my mouth to laugh, but instead a groan escapes me. The pain is inevitable. My eyes get all watery and the tears spill out my eyes and down my cheeks. Stop being a little girl, I tell myself. First of all, I've done step two. And I can't clear up all this mess and pretend nothing happened. This time I will persist. I pick up the knife my right hand, un-sure how to slit my right wrist. I move my left hand, and pain causes me to cry out in the empty house. I wield the knife in my left hand, and drop it on my right wrist, causing it to violently cut. Then the blood starts to spill out, and I look at both my wrists, and the blood littering the kitchen floor, and I start to laugh.

I don't know how long I'm laughing until I realize it's not funny at all. My legs are lead and I crash onto the ground with my knees. It hurts but I barely feel it. I draw designs with my finger in the pool of blood now surrounding me. All of a sudden, my head throbs. Aches. I feel terribly light-headed. "Uh. Goodbye." Are my last words before passing out. My last memory of that day is my clothes soaking wet in my own pool of blood.

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**Hi! Please write a review below, I will be posting second chapter in a few days, cuz I need to write!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Heya! Uploaded my new chapter! Hope you enjoy. In this chapter, you start to understand why she is a demigod and the connections to percy jackson. I always like mystery in the first chapter, anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter better!**

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Chapter II

My mind is tugging at me, like someone is shaking me, telling me to wake up. Telling me that I cannot be over, I haven't spent my life yet. I recognize his way of speaking. Soon the sound travels to me more clearly, I can make out his accent. He is blabbering, thinking I am awake. Reassuring me, yet he sounds he needs that himself. I won't be the one reassuring him, that's all I know. In my mind it is like an act of defiance against my father who is never there for me. I am getting bored of this so I mumble something. I can't hear myself; none of my senses seem to work. I don't feel any of my body, I can't move nor see, I cannot smell nor taste. But I can hear. I'm not grateful for that. Then I hear a lot of ringing around me. And my thoughts go fuzzy again and I pass out.

I don't know how long it is again until I wake up, but when I do, I feel comfortable. Instantly I move my hands, and pain shoots through my arm. Right Rosa, I tell myself, I cut myself there. I open my eyes, but immediately close them. I try again but the bright light blinds me. I move my head to the side, and alarms sound. I know where we are. There is that one smell, when you can tell everything is clean, proper and neat. That one smell is always related to a hospital. I hate hospitals. Soon a nurse comes to me and I hear her call the doctor. He tells me to sit up, like he's bored of telling everyone what to do.

"You only tried to commit suicide," he says with lack of interest, "You can sit up. Come on."

A few hours later, after all the check-ups are over, another nurse, with a smiling face arrives with a clipboard.

"Okay sweetie. I just would like you to tell me who you are. Quick, short; a resume." She says kindly.

"Um…yeah, okay. I'm Rosa Amiflora. I am eleven years old. Just turned eleven. I live in Philadelphia, Woodland Avenue, Pennsylvania, United Sta—."

"That's good enough!" she interrupts, jotting down everything I said on her clipboard papers. "You seem fine. Sadly your doctor always thought you were a bit unstable, so your dad and the hospital agree to send you to a psychiatric institute for a short while. Don't worry, everything will be fine sweetie." She adds before walking towards the next patient, the same smile glued onto her face. My fists ball up, yet pain from my wrists tells me she's right. I did try to commit suicide. Yet I still don't really know what happened! How did they save me? My dad must've come home, but for me to be sent somewhere, I must've lost enough blood to become a serious case. A freak.

I'd never realized it might happen for me to move. Moving is a big thing. My father couldn't pay for the big house to be empty, so he decided to sell it and rent an apartment. He tells me this and I only catch the important words. "Everything will be fine…you're moving in two weeks…I'm moving too…nice apartment downtown Philadelphia…better view of the park…nice place…you too, you have a nice new place too…sharing a room…not too far away…in New York…good reviews from the doctor—."

"It's in NEW YORK?" I yell, people staring at me in the children's psychiatric ward of the town hospital.

"Rosa! I've told you twice before. You are going to the Columbia University Medical Center, psychiatry for kids. Start listening. You'll have a roommate, and eventually you will start school again. It's May, and by the end of June, you'll be done with school! Then you'll maybe stay there for the summer, depending on how you mentally recover, and then…" He trails off. I make it clear I don't care any more by slowly falling asleep. I faintly here my father steps as he walks away. School is the least of my worries, I think. I don't like the fact I'm moving. Changes are never that great for me, but at least this means getting away. Yet I'm not ready for New York, I'm definitely not a _city girl_.

At the end of the week, I'm out of hospital. Every day I'm supposed to go talk with this weird lady, my psychologist until I get to Columbia psychiatry in New York.

"Hello Rosa Amiflora. I am Dr. Grace, your psychologist." She says as a greeting.

She's small and plump, and wears too much pink and her office smells of this horrible perfume, like it's too intense or got mixed with pee or something.

"Hi. I just want to say that I don't really care, and I'm going to keep my mouth shut because I don't want to tell you anything." I say, struggling to keep my voice calm, yet I want to yell.

"That's okay. I'll be here in case you ever want to sit and chat." She says this, imagining that I will instantly open up to her or something. Ha-ha, hell no! So I take a seat in these plush purple velvet chairs and stare at the ground, deep in thought. I'm thinking about Mom. I want to ask my dad and force him to tell me everything he knows about her, because I have enough of him playing his act of having a fuzzy mind. A few minutes later, in my mind, I swear I hear a voice: that is not mine. I have the confirmation I'm going mental.

_Rosa, I think it's time you know. I made your father's memories about me fuzzy, so he would get over me. I never thought I would have such of a questioning girl, but I do. I cannot reveal my identity yet, it is still too dangerous. At the psychiatric hospital, you will look for a girl called Juniper. It is the best for you. _

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? Yeah. I'm bonkers!" I reply to the voice. No one responds. Well, apart from Dr. Grace.

"Oh! Rosa? Is everything okay? I'm sure talking to me will help!" She says, hopefully. I'm sure she's bored of sitting here, waiting for me to tell her all my secrets or something.

"No. Talking to you is far from helping." I say this as I grab my coat and run out and down the stairs onto Lindbergh Blvd. Soon I'm walking home, repeating to myself what the female voice was telling me. She made my dad forget about her? How? Did she hypnotize him or something? I'm a questioning girl, but I believe her, no questions to ask about that. For some reason, I know I'm not crazy at all. And I know something else, that the voice was yes indeed my mothers.

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**Hope you liked this chapter better! Please post reviews and tell me whether you like it or not!:) That would be great for me to improve my story! Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Heya! It's Luna again. BTW Luna is my fake name. My user is my real pen name, so that if any real author agents notice me (lol never) ! **

**Anyway! THIS CHAPTER SHOULD BE A BIT MORE INTERESTING, the interesting bits come in a few days, when chapter 4 comes out. Things will really get demigod style once Rosa arrives to the psychiatric hospital! That'll be soon! Promise! Now read on and enjoy!**

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Chapter III

I slam the door shut, and I wince. My wrists are still bandaged up, and I have painkillers but still. The eyes were on me when I walked home, I think. In movies, when a character tries to commit suicide, they have bandaged wrists; it's like a distinction. 'Oh look at her! She tried to kill herself!' Talking about other people, Amy Watterson called me today. She was wondering if I was okay, with me not being at school for the week and all. I reply to her that I'm just sick. End of story. If I tell her the truth, people seriously will start calling me freak. Plus, if I try to cut myself again, I can't. All sharp items from knives in the kitchen to gardening tools were removed. For the gardening tools, it's a shame. That's maybe one of the only things I actually take pleasure in. Now all I can do is dig with my hands to plant in some seeds I bought at the local flower shop. I'm not supposed to go out alone, but my dad's not there and he seemed to forget I had my own pair of keys.

Since removing dirt from under my nails is getting annoying, I walk back in the house and look around. As much as I might hate this place at times, I'm sad we're going to sell it so quickly. We've already found a buyer – which in some way I wish we hadn't – and we're both moving out in another week. From now to then, I'm trying to breathe in as much air from Philadelphia as possible. I won't be coming back to Pennsylvania until a long time.

We told the school I would be going to a boarding school. Of course, teachers told students, students told popular group and popular kids told…guess who? I got a call the day my father had sent an email, from Liv Smith. She said she was very sorry I was moving, right, I think sarcastically.

"Omg! I'm so sorry to hear that Rosa! I'm guessing you won't ever come back?" There was a hint of happiness in your voice. Then I understand why it was so awkward, since she was the one who bullied me on the social network, it was maybe so obvious in the eyes of the silly kids in my school. They must think that I moved because of what she said. Well, one thing for sue, they won't be thinking that much longer.

"Why the fuck are you calling me, you bitch?" I say forcefully and hang up. And then I smile, a grin spreading across my face to fast for me to stop it. I can't believe myself anymore, I've changed already. This is ridiculous, I would usually never swear nor be mean; or at least to people's face.

Today is Thursday, tomorrow will be the last day I see my classmates – the school has invited me to spend the morning with my "friends" and say goodbye before leaving. Like I have anyone to say goodbye too…

That afternoon my dad tells me to walk alone to the psychologist, thinking I've been waiting for my 16-year-old neighbor to walk with me every time. I bribed the girl telling her I wouldn't tell my dad and she didn't have to come with me at all. She got her money so she was fine. I would rather walk alone, then I could think and sometimes, I say _sometimes_, my mother would speak to me again, telling me things about her, yet not really giving herself away. Guiding me. Telling me who to trust; an example, Dr. Grace continues to make me speak, yet I don't. My mother told me she was the sort who would tell everything to my dad, so I was or sure keeping my lips tightly bound together.

As I turn on the corner and start marching up Lindbergh Blvd., I hear her voice in my mind again:

_My child. Be careful. You shall speak of my guidance to no one. In this, you would betray me. I hope you will know the right choices to make. Think of Janus and his two faces, each one representing one door, one key, one route. The thing is, to choose the right one._

Her voice fades away and then it's gone. I ponder at what she says. Repeating it in my mind. While this, I walk up the stairs to Dr. Grace's consultant apartment. I still don't understand this last message, but Dr. Grace isn't helping.

"Hello Rosa. Your father told me you are seeing your school friends tomorrow. I was wondering if maybe we could discuss this, and find out what you want to tell them and what you don't…" She trails off, seeing as I don't care. I sit on the purple armchair and sit crossed legged, and cross my arms to make more effect. After a long pause, she sighs and sits in front of me and looks at me intently. I find it creepy holding her gaze, so I look down and think of playing on my phone. Knowing how disrespectful this is, I still do it. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care.

After the silly one hour meeting with Dr. Grace, she gets up and says, "Times up!" as if it's a bad thing. For me it's one of the best things I can possibly imagine of as in right now. She always has this ritual of holding out her hand for me to shake, but I have never shook it. I find that hilarious, I don't know why. My ignorance is unacceptable.

On the way home I receive several texts from Amy, telling me she is going to miss me and that she doesn't want me to leave. I'm guessing she feels obliged to every kid who has no friends. I never really liked her, but she's putting in so much effort, so I decide to play along. 'Thanks, im gonna miss you 2! Luv u! 3' Then I shut off my phone to block all incoming calls and texts and walk down Woodland Avenue back to my house.

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Please leave a review so i can know what you guys think! Cya next chapter! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey! I'm so happy about this fan fic, will be going with it t'ill the end...I would like it if ppl cld post more reviews, so that ik whether the story is good. Also, I STARTED A NEW FAN FICTION, ABOUT TRIS AND TOBIAS. PLEASE GO ON MY PROFILE AND CHECK IT OUT! Thank you! ily guys so much!**

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Chapter IV

Friday morning I get up early at 6:30 to go to school. I've gotten out of the school rhythm, kind of like when you're on holiday. I push off the covers, and get up yawning. I lazily walk to the window and look outside. Tomorrow we sell the house, my dad moves and we stay in a hotel for another two nights before each leaving each other alone. My father thinks I will come back with a mind no longer _deranged_ in July or something. Ha! He's wrong. I'm no longer listening to his lectures at dinner; I listen to my mom when I walk to Dr. Grace's useless appointments. There's no use asking him questions about her anyway. Last night I tried.

"Dad, why don't you speak of mom before I leave?" I ask, looking straight into his boring dark brown eyes. On the other hand, I inherited my eyes from my mother. Green eyes. I don't know where else I got them from; none of my father's relatives have green eyes.

"Because I can't remember, It was twelve years ago, Rosa. Stop bugging me, I still have to stay up and work. Unlike you, I still have to wake up every day and go to work." My father replies, his eyes skimming the room, looking anywhere but me. _Coward_, I instantly think.

"Yes! BUT DAD? WHAT THE HELL! How can you not remember the name of the woman you had a child with? YOU MAKE NO SENSE DAD!" I scream, my voice getting higher until it is a high-pitched screech. I get up and run to my room. In the end, I wish my father had never found me, and then I would have just bled to death and everything would have been for the better.

Later that evening, I had arranged what I would wear to school the next day. Normally I would never care about those _girly_ things. But 'normal' isn't a word in my vocabulary anymore. I don't know what is normal or not, a mother telepathically talking to me? A father who is amnesiac? A girl who has gone mental? Yeah, a girl who has gone mental, I confirm. Then, I was just pulling the covers over me, finding a comfortable position, when she spoke to me again.

_Rosa Amiflora. _It was the first time she spoke my full name. _Do not be harsh on your father. He is really trying his best. I hid the truth from him. The truth you will soon make out, I'm sure. For the moment, stay alive._

Stay alive? Those were the only words I really remembered all night. I couldn't sleep, or if I did, it was restless sleep. Thoughts racing in mind, I breathed on the window and it stayed, and I found myself running late because I was drawing, annoyed when the drawings would fade away. I turned and faced my bed, noticing it was already 6:47 am. I rushed into the bathroom, threw my clothes off and took a warm shower.

My father banged on my bathroom door, saying something but with the sound of the water crashing around me, I only heard his voice muffled. I'm pretty sure he was telling me to hurry up, that I should to get to school. After the fall out yesterday, I'm sure he was guilty; and I wasn't sorry for him. He should be, I still don't get how it's possible my mother erased his memory? I mean, to the point of him not remembering her name, I was a little shocked.

At breakfast, my father was lecturing me again. "You will need to remain polite. You shouldn't tell any of the people at your school what _really_ happened. You will say goodbye, and you won't take too long. I'm counting on you to take the bus home at your lunch break. I hope I can trust you. Don't do anything stupid. I'll be back with the buyer for one last tour of the house. Then you pack your last things in the boxes and the movers will come tomorrow morning early." I start to whine, wondering why on a Saturday we will have to wake up _early_! He goes on for a bit, but boredom over takes me and I stare into nothingness for a while before snapping back to reality. "Come on! Get in the car!" My dad screams from outside. I sit on the stairs fumbling with my laces. I jump outside, breathe in the nice air before the nasty air my school owns, and climb inside the front seat of the car.

We take forever to arrive at school. I'm not happy, so I sit with my arms folded. When I get out of the car, I look around at my school; thank God I won't need to be coming back here!

_Thank the gods, Rosa. The Gods._ My mother says in my mind.

I freeze, my hand on the door handle. The _Gods_? "Get out of the car! Your going to be late, and being late on your last day of school is highly disrespectful Rosa!" My father reminds me. I quickly move to action: getting out of the car, grabbing my bag and turning my head down so no one could see me. But of course, that never happens. Amy Watterson notices me first, then the rest of the grade see me. They walk in a crowd towards me. They all look like an army of mean kids, so I start running. I run past them, through the school's open glass front doors and I turn my head quickly trying to find an escape. The bathrooms! I dive into the nearest bathroom and lock myself in a stall. Seconds later someone comes in. I hear them pace around the sinks before saying, "Rosa. We saw you come in here! Why did you run away!" a girly voice says. I recognize it. Liv Smith. She sounds sorry for me, but I don't want pity. I don't want to get out, or she will beat me up or something. I don't think, because next thing I know I'm running again; running out of the bathroom, Liv tries to grab me but fails, then I run through the school to my homeroom, which would be soon starting. I turn my head around and find Liv running after me. She is not in my class, so she's going the wrong way. Let me take advantage of that.

I dash into my homeroom class and sit down at the nearest seat like nothing happened. Liv runs in after me, but then she notices it's not her class. Too bad my teacher notices too. "Excuse me, Liv, what are you doing in this class? You are in 7a. Please go to room 301, in case you forgot." Mr. Awnsley says coldly. Ha, I think proudly. She smirks at me, as if saying 'get you next time!' I smirk back, and she sees me. I'm reminding her there _is_ no next time.

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**Please submit a review! Bye! My next chapter should come up sunday, i have a football tournament on saturday so i won't have time! Cya sunday!**


	5. Chapter 5 - Part I

**Hey! LISTEN UP: I AM GOING TO A TRIP WITH MY SCHOOL FOR 3 DAYS, SO I WON'T BE ABLE TO POST. Im taking my notebook with me so if i have time i can write a chapter 6 and onwards. BTW, THIS CHAPTER IS UTTERLY SHORT, but i didn't want to only post an author's note. This is pretty much only a part of chapter 5, so when i come back i will update this chapter and the full version of number 5 will be here. Hopefully you can enjoy this tiny paragraph and wait 3 days for me to write some more! Bye for now!**

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Chapter V - (part 1, will be updating this chapter soon)

The rest of the classes run along the same lines: in English class with Mr. Davison, we write a farewell poem and each person needs to read it out to me, in Art class we draw pictures of schools and Ms. Woods makes the whole class 'express an emotion of sadness through our drawing.' No one understood, but people tried their best, and finally in Music, Mrs. Barello got everyone except me to sing this goodbye song. Boring. As Mrs. Barello is just saying, "Pack your bags, it's the lunc—." Everyone rushes out of the class, pushing past me and soon I find myself to be the last student in the classroom, Mrs. Barello looking at me expectantly. I quickly sling my backpack onto my shoulders and walk out of the classroom. I pick up the pace and start running across the corridor when a hand touches my shoulder. I flinch, turn around and back away. Amy is standing before me, a winning smile glued to her face. She actually waited for me after class. I smile back, but it turns out to be a grimace. She comes close to me and hugs me. I don't move, not bothering to return the favor. She pulls away and tells me, "I am sad you are leaving. If you let yourself be nice to people, I'm sure you would have been a better friend. I'm sure of it. Hopefully in your new school you can follow my advice!" At this, she starts down the corridor, walking with a slight bounce in her step, causing her pigtail to swing across her shoulders. It's mesmerizing how this girl can always be happy, cheerful and nice.


	6. Chapter 5 - Part II

**Hey! I'm sorry im supppper late to update! I've been really busy and been taking a long time to write this chapter as it is the last chapter in her school in Philadelphia. This is the continued version of chapter 5. Hope you enjoy!**

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Chapter V - (part 2, as i said would be continued.)

The half-day bell rings through the school intercom, and I know its time for me to leave. I pick up my tray and heave my bag on my back and walk towards the disposal area; and that's when my phone sounds. I know it is my father so I let the phone ringtone go on and on, firstly because I like the ringtone but also I am imagining my father at the other end yelling at his phone for me to pick up. Nearing the end of the song, I decide it would be wiser to pick up. My hand reaches into my pocket and i get the confirmation that it is indeed Green Amiflora. Green is such a weird name, I think as I pick up.

"Hello, this is Rosa Amiflora. How may I help you?" I joke.

"Haha, very funny, Rosa. I can't come because...because I have some work to do and I was wondering if I can trust you to take the bus home alone?" He replies, his voice strained and bored. Excuses and excuses, I think as he says 'I have some work to do', right; lot's of work. I don't think much longer before replying, mimicking his monotone tone.

"Yes. I can take the bus home. I'll be home in 20 minutes." I hang up immediately and shove my phone back into my pocket.

Just as I'm walking out the cafeteria after throwing away most of my food, (I hadn't really been eating much these days, not really in a hungry mood) I bumped into Amy. She looked up at me with her eyebrows raised. I suddenly hug her; she hugs me back. People walk past us, looking at us like we're crazy. I'm maybe crazy, but Amy isn't. "You gave me a forever in my numbered days…left at this school." I whisper in her ear. She pulls away and looks at me, with a pouty face.

"You could be a good poet, Rosa. Or maybe an author." She tells me. I snort.

"Nah, I don't think so."

"Well, you may be. The thing is, that's from 'The Fault in Our Stars', and so you're maybe not that good of an author yet!"

"You've read that book! I didn't know you liked reading. Why did you never tell me?"

"We have more things in common than you might think." She replies mysteriously.

"Really? Like what?" I ask, curious. I didn't expect her answer. I really didn't.

"I am like you." As she says this, she leans in and kisses me on the cheek, startling me. Then she skips down the cafeteria and merges with the crowd. I stand there for several seconds, not moving, not really understanding what she told me. 'I am like you' meant something obviously. Did she know I was self-harming? How did she find out? Does…does she have a dead mother as well? She never told me. Never talked about our parents together. All these questions were bouncing back and forth in my mind; meanwhile I was walking down the stars, skipping a step at a time, and arriving at the entrance of my school.

At the welcome desk, I noticed Liv's black curly hair. I straighten and walk stiffly towards the double doors and just as I think I could make it out unseen, Liv pins me to the wall. An assistant walking down the corridor shouts at us, "Hey, Girls! Calm down." Liv releases me and the woman walks away, the sound of her high heels echoing throughout the corridor. Liv stood in front of me, fists clenched. I tried to keep calm and act as if I wasn't terrified. I then point to my head and move my finger in a circular motion, indicating she was insane. _He-he_, I think, _she really is_. What I didn't realize was that she was as sane as I was, and my face went slack. Liv laughed and shrugged, un-impressed. I sort of stood there and watched her storm down the corridor and turn to run up the stairs. I shudder and un-freeze, running for the glass double doors.

At mid-day, the parking was almost empty. School only ended at 4pm, but I had to leave now. Either I go home now, either I never get to enter my house any more. I run across the parking, completely aware of how dangerous that is supposed to be, but I don't care. I turn right at the school gate onto the sidewalk. I walk across the street to the bus stop. The ride home from my school, John H. Webster School, is usually a half an hour, but at Friday midday, no one should be really using the bus. Shortly after I get there, the bus arrives and I hope on. A guy at the back listening to music with earphones tilts his chin at me. Then there's an old couple and that's all. I'm not used to the emptiness, but it's somewhat comforting. I quickly turn my head to catch the last glimpse of my school red brick buildings before turning away from Frankford Street.

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**Please leave a review! It really helps and you can give me advice to what you want which should happen and stuff...so yeah please at least tell me you enjoyed it! :)**


	7. Chapter 6

**Heya! OMFG IM SO SORRY! I haven't posted in such a long time, been busy with other stuff. Also i had quite a writer's block, and I wanted things to get moving and get interesting. So here's a good action chapter. A bit spooky, gave me creepy nightmares! Okay...ENJOY READING!**

**-Lunathedemigod**

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Chapter VI

As I hope off the bus at the nearest bus stop to my house, I breathe in the fresh air. In front of the road, a big white truck is parked, with an old man using a walking stick, helping my dad put the boxes inside the truck. The old man turns his head without turning his body, and he grins crazily at me. I wipe my eyes and look again, his neck is back in place, and he's helping my dad shove the green leather sofa into the back of the truck. The image of the old man grinning in my mind, I get distracted and randomly turn the other way. My father calls after me; snapping me back to reality, "Rosa! Where are you going? Come help me!" I turn around and face him, my bag swinging on my shoulder. "Well…the man there is helping you." I reply tired. My father stares at me quizzically. "What man? I've rented the truck silly." He says, still frowning. I look in disbelief at the old man, now walking towards me. "Dad, the…old man, like _right _there!" I stammer, shuffling backwards.

The old man's body doesn't look right; he is walking to fast for what an old man's pace should normally be. He is now about 10 feet away. My dad just looks at me funny and returns to putting boxes inside the truck. I try to step out the way, but the old man just stops, rotates his feet as if his body is made out of rubber and continues in my direction. Then I panic. I drop my bag on the sidewalk and run down the street. I dive into some random shop and steady my breaths. It's impossible, except if my father is playing a trick on me, I highly doubt he would. I poke my head out the shop door, and I can feel people's eyes on me. Then, I feel the hair on my neck stick on end as I spot the old man, 20 feet up the road. I run out the shop and turn into an alleyway; I know a shortcut back to Woodland Avenue. I turn again, passing a pile of trash bags and a wall full of graffiti before tumbling back onto the main street. I run back up the way to my house, thinking I can escape back to my house, but just as I'm nearing my house, something slams hard into my side and I fall to the ground, and loose my consciousness for a moment. I'm jostled to life when I hear cars honking around me. People don't seem to see the old man. My jaw droops as I see what is happening to the old man. His eyes go white, and wings grow out of the man's back. His clothes and flesh transform into a scaly green skin, with snakes for legs and a hissing sound fills my ears.

My first instinct is to call the police. But then I know what's happening, and it's happening to me and no one else. My dad couldn't see him, so other people won't. All of a sudden, the people around me start screaming but their screams turn to laughs as they point and take photos of the monster before me. I want to run, but I still feel groggy. Everyone forgot about me, and more cars have stopped to admire the creature. I use this as a distraction and run around people, dodging the flashing cameras. I turn around and run back up to my house. I spot the white truck again, seeing my father closing the back doors with a metal latch. I shudder to a stop and my shoes squeak on the pavement. "Well, thank you for your help." My father says, narked. "Uh…yeah, sorry I was busy—." I begin, looking behind me for any sign of the old-man-slash-weird-demon-looking-monster.

"Busy imagining old men. Right." He says in a mocking tone, raising his eyebrows.

I decide to believe it was just my _very_ vivid imagination. I feel dizzy, as if it was real, but push the thought aside. I pick up my bag, sling it over my shoulder and skip into the house. Big. Empty. Lifeless. I whisper and it echoes throughout the house. I walk up the stairs, every step making a loud noise. It's even emptier than it was without Mom. I randomly walk into the kitchen, and I can sadly still see the trace of my blood pool. I try not to think about it, and I run back outside. That's when the state of my incomprehension turns into full anger, I burst. My dad is knocked out, his body slouched against the fencing of our house. The monster from earlier is on top of the truck. It has yellow eyes, with a long and thin black pupil. It's arms are quite small but its long snake-like and slithery legs, on the contrary. I'm no longer scared. I'm angry. I let my bag drop onto the pavement, my books hitting hard. I ball my fists. I can hear the creature hiss and it jumps down the truck. Only 10 feet separate us. I inch closer, my mind racing for a heroic idea. Nothing sharp is near me…the gardening tools! I dash to my left running into the front yard. I fling open the doors of the little garden shelter and scream in frustration, as it's empty. Gardening tools came with the house; I knew that. Then it hits me. Both the thought and the monster. I tumble to the ground, the wet grass sending a shock of adrenaline through me. I roll backwards and miss the monster's next hit. I remembered that all gardening tools were confiscated because Dr. Grace classified them as 'dangerous items'. Ugh, I think, just when I needed them. I then think about punching it, but too late, as I try to get up again, it knocks me back to the ground. The wet grass and mud doesn't bother me anymore.

_The grass, Rosa. Use what's around you._

The voice of my mother speaks in my mind. She had remained silent for a day and I had been getting worried. I grab as much grass in my hands and rip it out of the ground. I then do the stupidest thing that comes to mind: I throw it at the monster. I watch as the grass turns into tiny green tinted metal spears and they hit the monster all over his chest. It tumbles to the ground and disappears in a pile of dust.

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**Always fantastic when you tell me what you think! Please leave a review below or private message me. **

**I will be updating this weekend. Just got tons of school homework!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Hey! I was able to post today! YAY! Lol...okay so just read and discover who Amy really is...**

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Chapter VII

I stare in disbelief at the dust or sand or whatever you'll call it. I freaked again, shrieking higher than I'd ever been able to. I touched it, no harm done. I scattered it around the front yard. It was quite noticeable…but I pretended not to see and imagined the new owners of the house to do the same. I turn around, my ginger hair flipping across my hair – have I mentioned that yet? I'm a ginger head by the way, and I have these green eyes. Not hazel. It's weird, but for my mother's sake I like it. I jog over to my father, slowly waking up. He waves me off, intending to say he's fine. I insist by taking his arm and pulling him up.

"What happened? This kid on a bike just crashed right into me!" He complains. What on earth is he saying, I think – apparently I also said it.

"What do you mean? You don't believe me! How long have you been here?" My dad waves a hand in front of my face.

"Oh…uh, longer than you might think." I say quickly, trying to figure out what's happening.

"Don't you talk to me like that! Where were you! You just dashed off! I had to pack everything myself. Rosa, really, what's going on? You can tell me." He pleads. I was almost wondering why he wasn't on his knees.

"I can't tell you anything." Is my response. Not so clever, but totally worth it as I see the look of shock on his face disappears, replaced by anger.

"Get in!" He says brushing of my hand from his arm. I sort of just stand there, all my reflexes muddled with my thoughts.

Once in the truck seat, I look back to the house one last time. Won't be coming back here for sure.

We're driving towards downtown Philadelphia but I don't pay attention: I'm thinking. How is it possible I was the only one seeing the monsters? Then Amy's voice was still vibrating in my head. "I'm like you." She had said. To me it made no sense, but I tried hard not to think about it. Not hard enough. I had to go see her, tell her what happened; she might know what to do.

"Can you drop me off at Amy's house?" I blurt out.

"Are you kidding me? You don't help me and you expect me to do what you want! You're really nuts." He says finally. I am taken aback by the accusation, not my fault you suck at being a dad, I turn and smirk at him. He doesn't take that to nicely.

"Just get out! I don't even want to see you." He says, stopping on the side of the road. I hide my happiness. "Oh! Come on Dad!" I say. I slam the door and pretend to sulk as he drives away. Then I instantly brighten as soon as he leaves. Perfect. Amy lives on Lindbergh so only a mile away. I begin walking, texting her as I walk. Some people look at me, probably wondering why I'm walking alone. I look younger than my age, even though I'm eleven. I find that _way_ old enough but my dad and society doesn't think that.

I soon recognize her house, and I walk up to it and knock on the door. I wait there a few minutes before anyone opens the door. A woman with black hair and blue eyes opens the door. She looks at me, raises one eyebrow and turns her neck, calling into the house, "Some sort of weird girl," she turns to look at me again, "Definitely weird." I then think whether it's Amy's mother, even though she told me her parents were divorced. Amy then pops her head through the door and mutters, "Can we talk outside?" I nod and she closes the door behind her.

"Hey." I say, trying to start a conversation.

"Uh…hi." She says, looking back at the front door, as if anticipating someone to leap out.

"I didn't know you lived with your mother." I say, feeling rude.

"Oh. Her! She's my stepmother. I hate her. She doesn't know anything about my summer camp." She says this as if it would make perfect sense to me.

"Right…your summer camp. What ca—." I begin. She cuts me off.

"Oh, it's a camp for kids like us." She says, still sounding worried.

"Uh huh. Makes perfect sense." I shake my head.

"Look, has anything weird happened to you lately? Because I need to know, only then can I tell you, silly." The words _anything weird_ takes me aback.

"Yes. I was going to tell you. You'll probably think I'm crazy—." She interrupts me again.

"I'm crazy too. We're all crazy, all of us. Mortals don't know what else to call us." Then she covers her mouth with her hand, her eyes alert as if something she wasn't supposed to say slipped. I'd never seen her like this; she'd always be the nice girl who was understanding and everyone's friend.

"_Mortals_? What the heck are you talking about?" I demand, folding my arms.

"Oops…carry on with your story please." She ignores my question.

"Uh…well, as I was saying. I saw this old man that no one else could see, and then he like changed into some sort of demon. I mean, it had yellow eyes and dark green scaly skin."

She mutters something under her breath and then looks up and tells me, "Okay…I'm sorry you can't stay here. You're not safe until we reach camp. Let's go inside we need to call Chiron." She says all of this so quickly I don't quite catch everything, and she turns, her blond hair, swinging in its pigtails. I follow her inside, skipping behind her.

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**Would be fantastic if you could leave a review...just at least say it's good or not. Anyway, already started next chapter, so it should be up soon...maybe even tomorrow. **

**-Lunathedemigod :)**


	9. Chapter 8

**Well, this isn't that of a long chapter (only around 1000 words) but I'm hoping you enjoy. Twist of events!**

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Chapter VIII

Amy slams the door shut behind her. Two little boys, twins I assume, chase each other across the room. Amy looks at me and rolls her eyes, before taking my hand and dragging me up the stairs. "Where are you going?" Her stepmother shouts at us.

"I'm just gonna go upstairs, lock myself up in my room and pretend I don't exist." She says, drawing a scar on her forehead, obviously signifying Harry Potter in his muggle house. Maybe she does feel trapped here, against her will. She shoots me a look before running up the stairs, and dashing into her room. She crashes on her bed, and taps the spot next to her for me to do the same. I sit, slightly feeling shy. My father would've arrived at the new flat by now, though I try not to think about it.

"Okay, first things first. You're a demigod." She says.

"What? I'm searching this on Google." I say. She lets me sit on her chair, and search on her computer.

I can't even read the words on the screen, because my vision blurs, did I mention I was slightly dyslexic? A demigod is apparently an _ancient_ Greek hero that would fight monsters to defend the gods and goddesses. I didn't get it. "How can that be possible? We're in the 21st century!" I exclaim. I continue reading: a half-horse and half-human creature, called a centaur, trained the Demigods; his name was Chiron. Amy was reading over my shoulder. I knew she was also dyslexic; we would both go to the same extra class to learn how to cope with our dyslexia.

"I changed the language to Greek. You didn't even realize. That's because your brain is wired to read ancient Greek, not English. Mortals don't know what else to call it, so they say it's dyslexia." She says finally. At first I have no idea what she's talking about. Then I look at the bottom of the page, and dead indeed, the page is in Greek. I stare at it, not fully understanding how this is all possible.

"It's hard to believe, but I need to take you to camp. Otherwise, other monsters will find us. Two demigods in the same school is not such a great idea, _they_ can smell us." Amy says, cautiously. I stare blankly at her. The scene with the old-man-vampire-slithery-thingy had happened, and wasn't just the fruit of my imagination. The whole impossible idea slightly, very slightly made me curious but I didn't push it further.

"Look, you'll have to face it. It's the end of May. You're leaving to go somewhere…does your father know you're a demigod? He cou—." I shake my head.

"No way. He knows nothing about me." I say dismissively. "I was supposed to be going to this psychiatric hospital and school for mental kids. Something like that, I don't even care."

"Yeah. Okay, well guess what? You're not going!" Amy says, a smile spreading across her face.

Then she walks out her bedroom, and I follow her into the bathroom.

"I made sure there was a bath tub here, for Iris message purposes." She says, not informing me about what the heck an Iris message was. "Very nice technique of contact, yet sometimes a bit scratchy on the voices, sorry Iris." Then she pulls open a drawer and takes out a golden coin about the size of her palm. Then she silently says a few words, like a prayer, before tossing the coin into the bathtub, now filled halfway with water. Suddenly, the water shimmers with light, and a small rainbow frames the bathtub. Inside the semi-circle of light, an image appears. The image of a centaur, this Greek mythological creature I read about, as if it were standing before me. In a calm but curious low voice, the centaur speaks, "Hey there, Amy! Everything doing okay with that girl, and school and whatever people these days do at your age…" Then he turns to face the camera, or whatever it is on his side, "Oh. Hello." Amy nods at me, but all I can do is stare at his horse legs and his torso lined with chest hair, and the oddity of the whole situation. "Chiron, this is Rosa Amiflora. I'm guessing she is daughter of Demeter. Just came back from an attack." She turns back to face me, "You said it was a slithery vampire-like creature, right?" I nod. "Right!" She says, turning back to face Chiron. "Sounds like a description of an Empousai."

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**I'm a bit out of inspiration, so I would love it if you could tell me what you think should happen next. Please private message me becuase I'm going through a writer's block again. Thanks! ily xoxo**

**-Lunathedemigod**


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